


Little Yellow Tags: Part 13

by lurkdusoleil



Series: Little Yellow Tags [11]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Barebacking, D/s, M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3166550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurkdusoleil/pseuds/lurkdusoleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six months into their college experience, Kurt needs a little something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Yellow Tags: Part 13

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, that's right. I wrote another part. This is for my generous supporters here on Tumblr, especially those who asked for more of this, because they got me writing it. Takes place six months after LYT: Interlude.

As it turns out, Kurt is doing fine without Blaine as his Dom. They’re six months into their life in New York City, and Kurt is _fine._

Every morning he wakes up to Blaine already up and making breakfast. They eat together, and then the two of them enact a carefully coordinated dance around each other to get ready--Blaine showers while Kurt picks both of their outfits for the day, then Kurt showers while Blaine gets their books and effects ready, then they coordinate use of the mirror between brushing teeth and managing their respective hair. Then they catch the train together, parting ways halfway along, Blaine heading to NYU and Kurt heading to NYADA. They take care of classes, and Blaine texts Kurt during their lunch breaks. Afternoon classes happen, and then Kurt leaves before Blaine does, heading into work at Vogue or the diner. Blaine finishes up classes, and then he rides the train to pick up Kurt and they take one train back together to go home. They spend the evening together, Kurt prepares dinner, sometimes with Blaine’s help and sometimes without, and then they do their homework and have sex and go to bed. On weekends they hang out with their friends, separately and together, and they go out into the city and experience it. 

They have it all down to a science. And Kurt is fine. He’s managing his daily stresses just fine. He doesn’t have a _need_ to be Dominated. 

The thing is, it would be _nice_ sometimes. 

He misses the days when Blaine would grab his wrists and just hold him down, but it never seems to occur to Blaine anymore. It’s like when he left behind the Skank part of him, traded in the mesh and the nail polish for bowties and monochrome hair, he also left behind the part of him that was Kurt’s Dom. And yeah, they’d agreed to take it easy, try to be “normal,” whatever that means. But Blaine is just--complacent, now. 

Kurt doesn’t know how to bring it up. He doesn’t honestly think he should, because if Blaine doesn’t want this anymore, Kurt’s not going to push. But there’s a nagging voice that Blaine put in him a long time ago that says he should communicate about this. 

He doesn’t. He just gets snippier, and he recognizes it in himself, but he just can’t seem to stop. They find themselves fighting--little things, mostly, setting them off. And naturally, it all comes to a head over the stupidest possible thing. 

“Kurt,” Blaine says one night, “can you please not leave dirty towels in the bathroom? We have a hamper for a reason--” 

“God,” Kurt snaps. “Maybe I was still going to use them, Blaine! Why didn’t you think of _that_?” 

Blaine pauses, eyes narrowing. “And you left them on the floor?” 

Kurt squares up against him. “If you don’t notice, _you_ track water all over the floor after your shower. _Maybe_ I wanted you to clean up after yourself with something instead of leaving _puddles_ everywhere.” 

Blaine squares himself back, settling in his stance. “Seriously, Kurt? Are we gonna play this game?” 

Kurt shrugs. “What game? I’m just _informing_ you.” 

“Kurt, this isn’t the only time you’ve done it and you know it,” Blaine says. “It’s like you’re looking for a reason to fight--” 

Kurt can’t deny that. God, he just wants Blaine to _know_ something is wrong. And he does, but he never _faces_ it, it’s like he just wants to ignore it-- 

“Kurt, what is going on,” Blaine demands. “Tell me.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Kurt finds himself saying. God he just wants to admit it but his mouth runs away with him, and Blaine should _know_ , he’s the fucking Dom he should just _know_ \-- 

“What do you want, Kurt? Do you want me to yell at you? Is that it? Do you want to yell at me?” 

No. No, he wants something else. _Admit it, Kurt. Admit it._ “Maybe I’m just too stressed to deal with the little things, Blaine. You notice _I’m_ the one with two jobs _and_ school on top of it--” 

Blaine shakes his head. “You’re the one who wants those jobs, Kurt, you wanted to earn your own income--” 

“And here we are,” Kurt says. “I don’t have the _time_ to worry about a couple of towels in the bathroom.” 

“It takes literally two seconds to throw them in the hamper, Kurt, you’re not a _child_ \--” 

“Maybe you should just punish me, if I’m a naughty fucking child,” Kurt sneers. _God, fuck._

Blaine freezes, staring. His stare is heavy, eyes focused in a way they weren’t before. He looks Kurt dead in the eye, breathing heavily for a long moment. “Is that what you want?” 

Kurt’s heart races in his chest. He’s asking, he’s asking seriously, weight in the question. And Kurt recognizes it in himself. He _needs_ this, exactly this. Maybe that’s what he was subconsciously seeking the whole time. He needs Blaine’s hands, his authority, he needs weight lifted from him, the only thing left in him to _belong_. He _needs_ it. 

Kurt lifts his chin and swallows back his emotions. “Maybe I do.” 

Blaine drops the towel in his hand and crosses the room, seizing Kurt’s face in his hands and pulling him down for a claiming kiss. His tongue slides its way into Kurt’s mouth, prying him open from his surprise, finally stroking him complacent as he melts under Blaine’s sudden force. Hands determined, body hard against him, Kurt lets Blaine bowl over him, and Kurt feels suddenly small and fragile. 

“You want to be punished?” Blaine asks. “Tell me the truth, Kurt.” 

“Yes,” Kurt breathes, and Blaine nods. He takes Kurt’s hand and pulls him to their bedroom, swinging him til he’s standing at the end of the bed, facing it, knees bumping the mattress. 

“What have you done wrong, Kurt?” Blaine demands, one hand on Kurt’s face, forcing him to look down at Blaine. Kurt leans against it, breathing, breathing, eyelids heavy. 

“I--” This is hard. This is so hard, admitting it. “I’ve been doing--little things. The towels. The coffee filter. I--I needed you to notice me.” 

“And why is that wrong, Kurt?” 

Kurt shivers. “I should’ve just asked,” he says, voice cracking. “I’m so sorry--” 

“That’s right,” Blaine says. “You _tell_ me when you need me. I can’t know all the time, Kurt.” 

“I’m sorry.” The remorse floods him, sudden and sharp, rising up and prickling behind his eyes. 

“I have to punish you,” Blaine says. “I need you to know what you did was wrong.” He reaches down and unbuttons Kurt’s pants slowly, pulling the zipper down after. He reaches in, sliding his hand beneath Kurt’s briefs, cupping him as he starts to swell. “Do you need this, too?” 

“Please,” Kurt begs. 

“Okay,” Blaine says, caressing Kurt slowly to full hardness. With his other hand, he strokes down Kurt’s back, down over the swell of his ass. “I’ll give you what you need. Strip.” 

He pulls away, and Kurt hurries to take his clothes off. But even then, he takes a moment to toss them carefully into the hamper off to the side of the room. 

“Good boy,” Blaine says, when he sees from his place by the bedside table. “That’s what I like to see, Kurt.” 

He returns with a bottle of lube in his hand. It’s been used in all vanilla ways lately, just fingers and cocks in the simplest of ways, and Kurt’s been satisfied for the most part. But he can’t deny the thrill that runs through him now, the way his groin tightens alarmingly as Blaine circles Kurt and ends up behind him. 

A hand on his shoulder blades, pressing. “Down, baby.” 

Kurt bends at his waist, and he’s down, arms bent beneath him, keeping him up, ass presented. He curves his back for it, proffering, and Blaine strokes down his back and cups one cheek roughly. 

“Ready for my fingers, sweetheart?” Blaine asks. 

Kurt pushes back in response, and Blaine clicks open the lube bottle. A squirt, and then Kurt feels his fingers, cool and slick. 

“Go two,” Kurt says. “Go fast, please.” 

“I’ve got you, baby,” Blaine says. “I’ll give you what you need.” 

The hand with the bottle in it rests on Kurt’s back, but the other strokes between his cheeks, two fingers slowly tap-tap-tapping, pressing in just the tiniest bit. Kurt whines and pushes back, and Blaine pulls back. 

“Ah--careful, baby, or I won’t let you come,” he says. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

Kurt bites his lip and doesn’t respond, because he honestly isn’t sure. On one hand, that would be so hot, and it calls to mind all the times in high school when Blaine denied him, controlled him that way. Kurt feels it heavy between his legs like he did back then, when Blaine smelled of smoke and touched Kurt like he owned him, like he was precious. 

_Fuck_ , Kurt has missed this. 

Blaine’s fingers press more insistently, and Kurt breathes and bears down. Blaine slides in, slow, slow, too slowly, but Kurt doesn’t do more than arch up, pressing his face further down. Blaine groans, understanding--he pushes in harder, opening Kurt up around him, and Kurt gasps and pants as he’s speared open. 

“You want it so badly, don’t you Kurt,” Blaine says. “God, you’re _begging_ for it--” 

He pulses his fingers, spreading Kurt gently but insistently, and within minutes Kurt is spreading his legs, pushing back harder. 

“I’m going to give you my cock,” Blaine says, pulling his fingers out. He squirts more lube, and Kurt feels demandingly empty at the sound of Blaine’s hand on himself, wet. “And then I’m going to spank you. We’ll keep going til you’re begging to come, and then I’ll decide if you’ve earned my forgiveness enough to get it, do you understand?” 

Kurt nods, breathing fast. God, this is what he wants, this is what he fucking needs, and Blaine could be behind him with his ripped jeans and leather jacket right now, the callback is so fucking clear. 

Blaine’s still wearing his clothes as he presses in--Kurt can feel his jeans on the backs of his thighs, and he whimpers at the though. Blaine, behind him, just his fly open, briefs pulled down just enough, cock the only thing out as he presses steadily into Kurt’s ass. Kurt peeks back--god, it’s just like he thought, but Blaine is wearing his usual clothes, not his leather and his mesh, and Kurt could almost swear at that, but it’s still so fucking good. He buries his face again, as Blaine starts to warm up Kurt’s ass with hard strokes of his hands over the flesh of his cheeks. 

“Don’t count,” Blaine says. “Just feel.” 

He sets a fast pace, hips slapping against Kurt’s ass as soon as he’s made his way in, and Kurt bites his lip and takes it. But then-- 

_Slap._ Hard, on his left cheek. He feels the pain, sharp and burning, settling into his muscles, just long enough to ease before _slap_ \--again, on the right, and then Blaine shifts, lifts Kurt’s hips up just a bit, angles, and then _fuck slap_ Kurt feels so fucking full, way too full, like he’s being taken apart _slap_ and the deep pleasure of his prostate being pressed against shoots through his cock _slap_ where it hits the edge of the bed below him, no friction not enough _slap_ his legs burn with holding himself up on tiptoes but _slap_ it feels so fucking good like he’s being rewritten _slap_ he buries his face in his hands and cries out loud _slap_ no more holding back _slap_ loud and needy _slap_ over and _slap_ over and _slap slap_ over and _slap slap fuck_ \-- 

“Please,” Kurt cries out, high and tight in his throat. “Please let me come. Fucking--fuck, please, please Blaine, touch me, please touch me--” 

“I am touching you,” Blaine says calmly, _slap, slap,_ only a little out of breath. 

“No--my cock,” Kurt whines. “Please let me come, please, I’ve been good, I’ve taken it, just--please, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, please just let me come--” 

“You have been good,” Blaine pants. He cups Kurt’s cheeks, red and hot by now. “Could you come just from my cock?” 

“I don’t know, Blaine, please don’t make me,” Kurt says. “Please just touch me.” 

“Okay, okay beautiful,” Blaine says. “You’ve been so good. Go ahead and come.” 

He reaches around, and then his hand is around Kurt’s cock, gripping him tight, tugging him mercilessly and Kurt shouts, “ _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck yes, god, fuck--_ ” and comes, hard and long, dragging out from him through his cock. 

Blaine slams in, once, twice, and then he grinds and groans, and then he collapses, noticeably limper behind Kurt, softer somehow. Immediately, he pulls Kurt into his arms, turning him, and Kurt falls in, and _oh_ he’s crying, releasing all the tension in one sob in Blaine’s arms. 

“You did so well,” Blaine whispers. “So well, Kurt, so beautiful.” 

“I’m sorry--” 

“No more, okay?” Blaine says. “You’re all done. You did it.” 

Blaine holds him for a little while longer before slowly guiding them both to lie on the bed. Kurt relaxes here, sniffling. 

“Now--can we talk about this?” Blaine asks. “What’s this been about? Do you need me to be your Dom again?” 

Kurt considers, but he can’t come up with a good answer that suits both of them. “I don’t know. I don’t think so, I just--I’ve been so stressed lately--” 

“And you needed the release?” Blaine guesses. Kurt nods into his shoulder. “Kurt, you have to _ask_ me for these things. If you need me--” 

“I know--” 

“We can’t keep fighting like we have,” Blaine says. “It’s ridiculous and it just stresses both of us out more. We need to _talk_ about things.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says. “I’ve just been--” 

“--Stressed, I know,” Blaine says. “Me too. You know we’re both adjusting.” 

“Yeah.” 

Blaine kisses his forehead. “How about this. We’ll have a weekly forum.” 

Kurt giggles. “Forum?” 

“Yes. Where we talk about our weeks and our grievances and we air everything out. How about that.” 

“We can try,” Kurt says. “I’m willing to give it a shot.” 

“Good,” Blaine says. “Then let’s say this--we’ll keep going like we have. But let’s try to do some of this...say, every month. We’ll _try_ anyway. Just to...keep things fresh.” 

“Okay,” Kurt says. “I can live with that.” 

They kiss, and Blaine settles down to Kurt’s level. “Can I go take my shower now?” 

“Fine,” Kurt says. He smirks. “As long as you clean up your puddles, for god’s sake.” 

“God, _fine_.”


End file.
